


counting stars

by vvhymack



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Slight canon divergence in the sense that Kavinsky survives but that's about it, dude there's like no angst lmao, excessive meta on dreaming and the dream place and just how magic works in the trc world lol, i don't know how to summary please forgive me uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvhymack/pseuds/vvhymack
Summary: It's been 7 years since Adam left Henrietta for university and his future life and he hasn't looked back. Steadily making his way up, he volunteers occasionally at a youth center where he suddenly meets Joseph Kavinsky. A story about recovery, the future and settling into love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to everyone who would tolerate me not shutting the fuck up about adam/kavinsky. 
> 
> also disclaimer: this will be somewhat ooc because a) kavinskys characterization in canon is lacking and this is set in the future, where he's no longer an angsty teenager. b) since this is told from adam's POV, and adam doesn't hold as much hostility towards kavinsky as gansey and ronans and blues narratives, he will be more forgiving and tolerating of kavinskys personality.

**“ - throw roses into the abyss and say**

**‘** **_here is my thanks to the monster who didn’t succeed in swallowing me whole_ ** **’ - ”**

**\- friedrich nietzsche**

**__________________________________________________________________________________________**

 

Adam Parrish counted his steps, among other things. Other things; the change in his wallet, the change in a green pencil case in his room, the number of words he wrote for his thesis, how many times Gansey could possibly text him in a day. Steps weren’t the most important thing he counted or even the most consistent since he tended to rush to a lot of things and counting steps was the last thing on his mind. Other things on his mind; what the perfect excuse was that didn’t sound like an excuse, should he even be doing this and could he just fall to the ground and go to sleep?

It was about 70 steps from his apartment to the cafe near his house. From the front door to the cashier, there were less than 10 steps, or shuffles, depending on the time of the day. Outside, it took another 100 or so steps to reach the steps of the youth center. After that, it was a matter of circumstance. Would the supervisor stop him on his way in? How many children would glare at him? Or, like that particular day, would there be a sudden change in plans?

Parkinson rushed past him, paused, rushed back to him and stared at him, eyes frantic.

“He’s here.” Parkinson’s voice was high, breathy, and Adam raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He should be more sympathetic but for someone this superior in post, Parkinson was an unfortunate mess.

“Who’s here?” It was a simple enough question for Adam but not for the man standing in front of him, who started wringing his hands.

“I’ve been trying through his lawyer to book him and get him here for months and he just! Drops by! I’m thrilled, obviously, but -”

Adam grabbed Parkinson’s shoulder and lightly shook him, just enough to bring him back to their moment in reality.

“Who. Is. Here?” Adam asked, very slowly, as though he was talking to one of his students while they were taking notes. Parkinson took a deep breath, so deep his chest shuddered in an exhale. Before he could answer, his eyes widened, and Adam hadn’t yet turned before he heard the man distressing and delighting Parkinson at the same time.

“Can we get started or nah?”

Adam froze with his back to the classroom, his eyes automatically going to the door through which he innocuously came just a few moments earlier. Adam tended to memorize faces and voices, not because he was good at them but because he figured they might be important on his climb to the top. Only certain people were privy to a certain personality of his, and he had to remember to keep their faces straight. This voice was dragging back the Adam that stood straighter, who wanted to check if his clothes weren’t rumpled, wanted to make sure he had a closed look on his face.

Adam turned around and faced Joseph Kavinsky.

Kavinsky’s eyes widened in shock before an easy smile spread on his lips.

“Parrish, you fucker, what’re you doing here?” Kavinsky’s voice wasn’t deeper, but it felt more grounded. He also looked profoundly different, yet startlingly similar. The gold chain still hung around his neck, but he had traded his white tank top for a t-shirt. There were bloomings of color across his skin, in places Adam’s eyes wanted to linger but couldn’t. Perhaps most changed of all was his face, his cheeks no longer hollow and his eyes carrying a certain amount of life that wasn’t attributed to drugs.

He looked good.

“I volunteer here,” Adam said, his voice betraying none of his thoughts. “What’re _you_ doing here? We’re trying to prevent kids from becoming drug addicts here, you know.”

“I am hurt and offended,” Kavinsky announced dramatically, yet his eyes were still smiling and so was his mouth and Adam felt wrong-footed, like he’d stepped into a different timeline. Behind him, Parkinson gasped, but Kavinsky had disappeared back into the room before the manager could react any further.

“He just appeared!” Parkinson whispered harshly, apparently still stuck on Kavinsky’s appearance.

“This is the guy you’ve been trying to get for weeks?” Adam asked.

“What’s with the judgment, Parrish?” Parkinson retorted, suddenly somber and Adam remembered that this guy ran the place and thus deeply cared about things Adam wasn’t sure he himself could.

“No judgment,” Adam said breezily, which wasn’t entirely true. Adam was, in his own way, an extremely judgemental animal. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect to see him of all people ever again.” Mostly because Adam figured he was probably dead, but that was neither here nor there. Parkinson huffed and Adam brought forward his most winning smile, courtesy of one Richard Gansey. “Come on. Let’s see what the illustrious Mr. Kavinsky has to say to our youth, huh?”

Adam lead the way into the room Kavinsky had vanished into and found 20 or so kids sitting on chairs and Kavinsky at the front, standing _on_ the chair. Beside him, tapping away on his phone, was another surprise from his past. Jiang wore a sharp suit and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Tattoos peaked out from the collar of the shirt he’d left a little unbuttoned and Adam could see several kids looking at him with emotion that ranged from curiosity to envy.

“Why is he on the chair?” Adam asked.

“He likes to feel tall,” Jiang said, without looking up. A moment later, he processed the voice and looked up and offered Adam a professional nod. _As it should be_.

“Well, hard drugs stunted my growth, what can I say,” Kavinsky said loudly, his expression clearly saying he did not appreciate being talked over. Several eyes tore away from Adam and Jiang and went back to Kavinsky, and Kavinsky smiled a sharp smile.

“Hello, naughty children,” he said, with maniacal glee. “It’s storytime.”

-

“If any of the memes you so gleefully talked about make their way into their essays, I’m sending them to you for correction,” Adam said, slightly shell-shocked as the children left the room. It wasn’t that Kavinsky had been bad. In fact, he’d been good. Really good. Dry, dark and self-deprecating humor put the children at ease more quickly than Adam had suspected. Kavinsky had been candid and outrageous yet intense at times. It was a Say No To Drugs speech the kids would not forget.

“Is that your roundabout way of asking for my number, Parrish?” Kavinsky asked. “Why don’t we get coffee, talk about the old days.”

“Ah, yes, my fond memories of you kidnapping Matthew, a pleasant walk down memory lane,” Adam muttered before he could stop himself but even he saw that it wasn’t appropriate. It didn’t seem to bother Kavinsky, though, who just shrugged and accepted the answer before turning around and walking away.

It was the strangest thing, seeing Joseph Kavinsky walk away from you. It was 10 steps until he reached the door and at the 11th, he looked back, finding Adam’s eyes. Adam was once again surprised by the life in them, soft yet bright.

“See you around, Parrish,” Kavinsky said, his voice traveling to Adam and clunking around his brain long after the man himself had left. Adam frowned, turned around and stalked to where he was supposed to be.

The rest of the day went by fast, ending with Adam attending a 4 p.m. class before heading back to the apartment. The apartment was small, shared with a flatmate that was pleasantly tolerable. Things kept making noises they shouldn't make and broke at the most inconvenient of times but it could have been worse. Gansey was absolutely charmed by the place, of course, but it was better than Blue hitting whatever didn't work. Gansey had the good sense not to offer what Adam knew he wanted to and their time here went surprisingly smoothly. Adam knew he should sleep, knew he was lacking sleep and should catch up when he had the chance. Instead, he pulled out his phone as he settled on his bed later that night.

Typing 'Joseph Kavinsky’ into the Google search bar felt foolish and Adam hesitated before tapping enter. It was unlikely Kavinsky would ever waltz into his life again but - _He had a Wikipedia page?_

He opened the first link in a new tab as his eyes skimmed through the first search page. _Joseph Kavinsky gives talk - Candid, Absurd and yet - Out of rehab and out in public - Forbes 100 -_

Adam switched off his phone and blinked in the darkness. Slowly, he opened it again and began reading, slower this time, taking in information. This shouldn’t feel new to Adam; he’d been Googling his Aglionby classmates since they started making names for themselves. But somehow, the fact that it was _Kavinsky_ giving _talks_ made it surreal. Articles talking about rehab and relapse, about Kavinsky dropping out of the “family business”; gossip rags about Kavinsky and his friends-- _The Dream Pack_ , so they were called--articles ragging on Kavinsky, calling his recovery a ruse and his talks a method of monetary gain. Adam doubted that. Then again, Adam knew Kavinsky wasn’t exactly hurting for money.

Adam fell asleep somewhere between one link and the next, phone cradled in his hands. His alarm woke him up the next morning and Adam set about his day, keeping his browser pointedly closed.

Adam no longer needed to work three jobs just to make it by. His scholarship gave him an almost full ride and all of Gansey’s parading him about had paid off. Adam had started his post-high school life with several offers of paid internships and even part-time jobs at good companies that kept his academic schedule in mind. Now he had an internship at a company and a part-time job at a mechanic 3 times a week. Alongside his volunteer time with the youth center as a tutor, life kept Adam quite busy and he liked it that way. Busy meant familiar aching muscles and a good night’s sleep. It meant productivity and another day going places.

Which is what he was explaining to Gansey on the phone while walking to his internship. He couldn’t count his steps because he was too busy counting the number of times Gansey had sighed his name in exasperation (nine).

“You’re overworking yourself. We haven’t had time to grab lunch together in 2 weeks.” Gansey was sulking. Adam wanted to tell him that he sounded like his mother but that wasn’t true. Gansey sounded like _a_ mother, but certainly not Adam’s. Instead, Adam made a noncommittal sound and Gansey sighed.

“How about this weekend?”

“Parkinson called me in for a few extra hours with some kids,” Adam said, and then smiled at Gansey’s high pitched frustration. “How about dinner, then? You can come pick me up from the center.”

Gansey agreed and they changed the topic to anything else, jumping from Adam’s internship to how Henry and Blue were doing and did Adam know Henry was holding a fundraiser for his seat campaign? He’d love it if Adam dropped by! By the time Adam hung up as he got to the doors of the company, he had three separate places to go in the following month.

The weekend came as quick as it always did, and would fly by as uneventfully as Adam had expected- or so Adam thought. He was on his 86th stride when he noticed the car parked. The car itself had changed, the ugly bulk and sharp corners smoothed over and curved, glistening in the sunlight, in a beautiful dark grey color. What was the same, though, was that Virginia number plate, the THIEF scratched up and beat up, with slight burn marks that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the car. Why Kavinsky would choose to hold on to that piece of his past when he’d seemingly discarded everything else, like too old clothing that never fit, Adam didn’t know. But Adam found that he _wanted_ to.

Before Adam could move any further, the door swung open and Jiang hurried out. Even in a hurried state, he looked like he’d stepped out of a lookbook, his suit sharp lines and deep colors, his coat heavy with quality. He was talking a mile a minute on the phone, twirling a key. His eyes met Adam’s and he nodded in acknowledgment before he gracefully swept into Kavinsky’s car and drove off, earning a couple of honks. Some things didn’t change.

Adam made his way up the steps and looked back at the space where the car had been one last time before sighing and going in. He walked through the crowds of kids rushing for one activity or another, stopping by at Parkinson’s for a quick chat and then towards his tutoring rooms. They weren’t _his_ entirely; they had another tutor but Adam had only met her in passing and she always looked too deep in thought for Adam to start a conversation. They also had a couple of volunteers who helped out when help was needed, so all in all, the space was used by a number of different people. But perhaps Adam left the most of himself there, from mugs to snacks to little figures and such things the students had given him to the extra jacket stuffed in the bottom drawer. All signs that Adam existed, even when he wasn’t there.

He flung his door open and stopped short. Kavinsky was lounging in the teacher’s chair, Murtaza in front of him. The 9-year-old was working on something on a piece of paper intensely and Adam narrowed his eyes.

“Hello,” He said cautiously. Kavinsky looked up but the boy was still concentrating on his piece of paper, staring at it as though it may reveal to him the answers to the universe.

“Parrish!” Kavinsky said pleasantly, a smile tugging at his lips. Adam blinked at him, unsure of the situation. He had simply not been bred to navigate his way around a pleasant Kavinsky.

“Kavinsky. What're you doing here?” Adam asked, finally making his way to the table.

“I was supposed to leave with Jiang but he had some business to attend to. Mr. Parkinson insisted that I was welcome here.”

“Did he specify here as my classroom?” Adam asked, shrugging his jacket off. Kavinsky shrugged.

“The kid seemed bored. I gave him something to occupy himself.” Kavinsky waved his hand at the piece of paper and Adam finally looked at it, trying to decipher what was written.

“You have god awful handwriting,” Adam said. “Is that a riddle?”

Kavinsky laughed, loud and heartfelt, and again, Adam’s heart skipped a beat. He simply wasn't _used_ to it. But he felt he could get used to it if he wanted to. At that moment, Adam Parrish counted to three and decided to give the man in front of him a chance. He smiled back, a soft and precious thing, the kind not given freely.

“I’m used to scribbling, trying to write down racing thoughts,” Kavinsky said. Adam swallowed so many questions he had, although Kavinsky didn't seem averse to sharing.

“Are you here for long?” Adam asked instead.

“Jiang or Swan will probably drop by to pick me up. I _could_ get an Uber, but apparently, I'm a terrible passenger seat driver.”

“I meant in the city.”

“Adam, I live here.” Kavinsky’s voice was amused but his name sounded like a laugh. _Ah-dam._

“How come we’ve never run into each other before?”

“Would you have wanted to?” Kavinsky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That's surprisingly respectful of the wishes of people who don't wish to be associated with you.” And really, it was impossible to not bring up their past. Kavinsky didn't seem particularly perturbed by it.

“Parrish,” he said, and it was back to _Parrish_. “That was years ago. I had my reasons for doing the things I did but I was also a teenager. I've grown since then. At least I hope I have.” A huffed laugh. “Who knows, maybe I'll see your boyfriend and fall into infatuation all over again.”

Adam didn't have a response, but he blamed that for the next words out of his mouth.

“Ronan isn't my boyfriend anymore.” _Kavinsky did not need to know that._

Kavinsky frowned slightly. “He broke up with you?”

Adam bristled. There was a curiosity in the voice, but also a hint of anger.

“Why would you think that?” Adam demanded. The same hurt pride arose that did every time this was brought up.

“Because Ronan Lynch is a fucking idiot,” Kavinsky said plainly.

“Language,” Both Adam and Murtaza chided simultaneously.

“Pardon my French,” Kavinsky retorted, his tone dry. “Lynch wouldn't know a good thing if it punched him in his ridiculously symmetrical face.”

Adam wanted to ask if Kavinsky thought _he_ was a good thing or if he was referring to himself, but at that moment, children started pouring into the room. Kavinsky stood up.

“Let me know how that goes,” he said, pointing at the paper Murtaza was still pouring over, and he waltzed out of the room, cheerfully waving at some of the children. Adam stared at the door a little longer than he should have.

Suddenly, overnight almost, it seemed like Kavinsky was everywhere. Not physically, of course (though they did bump into each other now and then) but in Adam’s mind. For the longest time, Adam didn’t _think_ about Kavinsky and when he did, it was sparingly and unkindly. After the Fourth, it seemed like for all intents and purposes, Kavinsky was gone. Adam didn’t know where, and Adam never cared to ask. He just knew that Kavinsky no longer existed in a way that Cabeswater could sense him. And then he himself lost Cabeswater, and Adam never knew if Kavinsky ever went back to dreaming.

He hadn’t cared.

He cared now, though, lying in bed again, days after his last interaction with Kavinsky. It was slow, his brain picking apart his interactions with Kavinsky in the background and his spare time, coming up with theories simply because he was interested. He didn’t _have_ to do it, and when juggling an internship and job and the volunteer work, it became obvious that Adam had needed something to obsess over, something trivial and inconsequential to slip between the stress and the panic. It was the same reason Gansey got unreasonably argumentative whenever he was juggling multiple things and Adam and Helen had to intervene before he pissed off the wrong senator. Devoting borderline obsessive attention to something that didn’t really have consequences and yet was interesting was Adam’s way of balancing his stresses. Suddenly, instead of intrusive thoughts about work or his internship or his friends occupying his mind during free moments, it was thoughts of Kavinsky. Adam almost welcomed them because Kavinsky and the questions he brought were simpler and less likely to send Adam into a quiet mini panic attack.

The most important one: did Kavinsky still dream? Adam thought Ronan must have sensed it if he was but truly, he didn’t know if Ronan could sense it this far away from home or if Kavinsky was using a different ley line. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t think Ronan would tell him anymore either way.

He was having dinner with Gansey tomorrow, so maybe he could ask him. No doubt Gansey would be ecstatic that Adam was showing interest in Ronan again. Adam let out a fond huff. Gansey’s parental streaks may have rubbed Adam the wrong way but now he was simply fond of his best friend’s eccentricities.

Or he could ask the man himself. Adam felt for his phone and felt the cool metal against his fingers when he realized he didn’t have Kavinsky’s number or any way of contacting him. The room lit up as Adam squinted at his phone and looked through his contacts. He didn’t have Jiang either or any of Kavinsky’s old pack, who were apparently still his current pack. Adam admired that, considering the way his own high school crew had somewhat deteriorated. He only ever kept in touch with Gansey, with Henry a distant second as he accompanied Gansey to more events than Blue did. Ronan and Adam talked occasionally, on birthdays and important dates and whenever something seemed to remind one of the other and then they let the conversation die out.

Adam paused over Parkinson’s name. _That_ was someone who would have Kavinsky’s number. Adam entertained the idea for only a moment before dismissing it. It was ridiculous he had even thought about it in the first place.

He could get Kavinsky’s number by himself. Well, he didn’t have to, he could just ask him everything face to face but- Adam wanted to. Mostly he wanted to see how Kavinsky would react. Adam was unsure how teenage Kavinsky would have reacted so this Kavinsky was even harder to discern. Adam may or may not have thought about it until he fell asleep.

Morning or even the next day didn’t deter Adam from his late-night plan, but it turned out it was hard to talk to someone who didn’t show up. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Adam. Kavinsky hadn’t shown up at the youth center before Adam’s brilliant idea and he wouldn’t just show up because Adam wanted him to. Yet, each day Adam went through without Kavinsky grated on him, because the questions were piling up and the nights were getting restless and the more he was deprived of the information, the more Adam wanted to _know_.

“Are you okay?” Gansey’s voice pierced through the noise in Adam’s head, and he brought his attention back to the man in front of him with shame.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Adam replied, grabbing some chicken with his fork and stuffing it into his mouth. Gansey looked unconvinced but knew better than to persist. He continued talking about an event coming up, which would have all the up and comers and asked whether Adam was coming. Adam remembered his internship boss telling him something about that while name-dropping the Ganseys and throwing Adam a significant look, and he affirmed that he was going to be there. This lead to Gansey starting to complain about the people he didn’t like that were coming.

“- and, oh, my god, remember that senator from last year you and Helen had to drag me away from? He’s apparently-”

“Do you remember Joseph Kavinsky?” Adam blurted out. Gansey stopped mid-speech, mid-breath. “He was in high school with us? He disappeared junior year, I think.”

“I remember,” Gansey said, his voice tight. “What about him?”

“He dropped by the youth center a couple of times,” Adam said, trying to sound casual. Gansey’s eyes narrowed.

“Is he trying to recruit new gang members?”

“Okay, he wasn’t in a _gang_ -”

“His father is a _mobster_ ,” Gansey hissed. Adam winced. He should have expected this, really. Gansey had never held Kavinsky in high regard, and he was borderline cruel to the people he didn’t deem important enough. “His druggie mother is still rotting in Henrietta, where Kavinsky abandoned her.”

Adam had no defense because he didn’t know Kavinsky enough (yet) to refute any of that. But-

“He’s turned his life around, you know. He’s recovered and he’s giving talks and trying to help other kids.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Gansey scoffed, but Adam could see hesitance settle into his eyes. “Are you sure it isn’t a ruse?”

“Your mother is called fake and insincere all the time, doesn’t mean you believe the paps,” Adam snapped back, then smiled apologetically. “Look, forget I asked. He’s a mutual acquaintance from school and I thought you’d like to know. What were you telling me about that senator?”

Gansey stared at Adam for a moment before shaking his head and continuing the story as they slowly made their way through their food than dessert. The drive back was more silent, but comfortable, and by the time Adam got out of Gansey’s car, it seemed that Gansey had forgotten all mention of Kavinsky. Or so Adam thought.

 **_Gansey_ **  
People like Kavinsky don’t change, Adam. (09:21 p.m.)

✔ Seen (09:33 p.m.)

Adam didn’t count the steps to the youth center because he was running late, disastrously so, and couldn’t keep up with every time he had to sidestep someone who was moving at a sloth’s pace. He spared the car in front of the center a glance before sprinting inside. He wanted to look, to see where the owner of the car was, but he could hear the sound of loud children coming from suspiciously close to his classroom so he hurried along instead. His students were more important than some old acquaintance, although, for some reason, Adam didn’t think that title did Kavinsky justice anymore.

His phone buzzed just as he entered his classroom, but he waited until he had settled his things on the table before answering. It was a text message from Parkinson to come meet him after his class. This was regular. What wasn’t regular was the tiny, minuscule buzzing in his head that for a moment had hoped it might have been someone else messaging him. The whole thing was utterly ridiculous, and Adam shoved his phone into his pocket, effectively shoving the thought out of his mind and calling the class to attention.

Since he was already late, it was harder to get the students’ attention, and after 5 minutes, he gave up getting anything substantial done since most of the children just looked like they wanted it to _end_ \--honestly so did he--anyway. He set certain worksheets aside and let them work as lazily as they wanted. By the time they had to leave, they looked less exhausted and Adam smiled to himself. Being entrusted with the well being of children was - well, it was hard and as much as Adam hoped he was doing well, there was always fear. Seeing the children physically at ease calmed something in him and although much wasn’t done, Adam still marked it as a productive day while he made the walk to Parkinson’s office.

Seeing Kavinsky sitting in front of Parkinson’s desk was both surprising and not a surprise at all. Pleasant relief flooding Adam for a moment, and he involuntarily smiled. Kavinsky looked shocked, which made Adam want to grin but he toned it down before smiling back, bemused.

“Hello, Adam,” Kavinsky said.

“Hi,” Adam replied, leaning against the door frame. He turned his attention to Parkinson. “You called?”

“Yes, yes, I did,” Parkinson said, his voice lethargic. It seemed that the lazy and sleepy atmosphere was affecting everyone, and Adam quietly thanked the gods and the universe because he couldn’t handle anymore hurrying today. “Mr. Kavinsky here”--Kavinsky pressed his lips together--“wants to donate a considerable sum to our small institution. Of course, he wants to know more about how things are run and what we offer before investing, and I figured you’d be just the man for the job.”

“Because you’re sleepy?” Adam asked, quirking an eyebrow. Parkinson glared at him and, once upon a time, Adam would have winced but Parkinson’s warm brown eyes were far too fond.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Adam said. “Kavinsky is allergic to authority and professionalism. If you want his money, appeal to his sense of casualness.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Parrish,” Kavinsky said in a mock offended voice.

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t make it so easy,” Adam shot back.

“Children, please take your flirting outside,” Parkinson said, rolling his eyes. Adam shot him an offended look and was ready to retaliate when Kavinsky got up.

“Great idea. Give me the tour, Parrish.”

Giving him the tour turned out taking more time than Adam had expected since Kavinsky had a million questions about everything and Adam’s answers were filled with personal opinions and anecdotes. Parkinson had joined them for a few moments in front of the achievements board before taking off for the night, telling Adam to lock up. By the time they wrapped up back in Adam’s classroom, it was an hour or so later and Kavinsky looked content, lounging in a chair, looking around thoughtfully.

“So, what do you think?” Adam asked, watching Kavinsky carefully. Adam’s personal opinions aside, the center could do with a donation.

“I think Skov is going to want to see this,” Kavinsky replied. Adam blinked.

“Skov?” He couldn’t imagine what input Skov could give on this decision, but that may very well have been because he could only picture a stoned 17 year old Skov rather than the 20-something he would be now.

“Skov has- ideas. About everything. They’re long and rambly but they’re great usually,” Kavinsky said, fondness accentuating his voice. “He’d have a million different ideas to make this a better place.”

“It’s already pretty great,” Adam said, his voice even.

“Your paint is peeling, Parrish. The chairs feel like they’re going to fall apart any second,” Kavinsky said with a laugh. Adam opened his mouth but before he could get protests (or insults, he wasn’t sure) out, Kavinsky cut him off. “I don’t mean to offend. This place is doing great things as is, of course.”

“You just want to renovate.” Adam’s comment was not without judgment and Kavinsky rolled his eyes.

“I’m rubbish at this, Skov will explain it better. You’ll get it,” Kavinsky said, getting up. He paused, looking at Adam with an unreadable face. Adam looked back, keeping his face as blank as possible, wanting to see what Kavinsky would pick up.

“You know any good places for dinner around here?” Kavinsky asked finally, relaxing into his stance. Adam got up as well, gathering his things.

“Mostly cheap fast food places,” Adam replied, shrugging on his jacket.

“My favourite.” Kavinsky said it gleefully and Adam almost believed him. He smiled, and they walked out together, Kavinsky waiting patiently as Adam locked up and Adam rattled off names of joints that were nearby. They stopped in front of Kavinsky’s car, and Adam’s attention diverted to it. Even in the dark, the gray seemed to glitter.

“Did you dream this car?” Adam said instead of ‘good night’.

“Some of it,” Kavinsky said instead of ‘see you later’.

Another pause, as Adam looked at the car under his hands and Kavinsky looked at Adam.

“Do you want to join me for a greasy dinner?” Kavinsky asked, breaking the silence. Adam didn’t look up from the car, fingers gliding over the bonnet, cool to the touch. His fingers reached the tip of the wipers. Not a speck of dust on his fingers. He looked up.

“Yes,” he said easily. “I’d like that.”

With a click, the car was unlocked and a door was opened. Adam ducked into the car and let out a startled laugh. He expected a lot; fur trimmed accessories, state of the art technology and sound systems and an interior as sleek as the exterior. What he didn’t expect was what he was greeted with- although, all things considered, he probably should have.

Any sophistication was hidden underneath stickers on the dashboard, ridiculous charms dangling from the rearview mirror, the speakers blaring a pop song the minute Kavinsky started the car. There was more than one emoji cushion strewn around. Adam pulled out the winking emoji from where it was settled against his back and held it up.

“That’s Skov,” Kavinsky said after he spared it a glance. “There’s one for all of them fuckers, they think they’re so witty.”

“So the angry face is-?” Adam asked, craning his head to look back.

“Swan. She’s a fucking menace,” Kavinsky’s voice held none of the harshness his words implied. Instead, the same soft fondness became clear.

“And th- she?”

“She.” Kavinsky’s voice was firm and while he didn’t look at Adam, Adam saw his shoulders tensing.

“That’s nice,” Adam said, staring at Kavinsky’s stiff posture, waiting for it to unwind. It did, after a moment. “Where’s Jiang?”

For a moment so quick, Adam wasn’t entirely sure it happened. Kavinsky’s hand left the wheel and his whole body turned back as he fished out the remaining pillow and threw it on Adam’s lap. The car hadn’t even swerved yet Adam’s heart was pounding. He clutched the sunglasses emoji pillow in his hands.

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Kavinsky asked, frowning.

“Just because you’re suicidal doesn’t mean I’m willing to die in a car crash because you can’t be fucked to keep your eyes on the road.”

“My eyes are on the road, Parrish,” Kavinsky said with a smirk, and Adam did the only thing he could think of and hit Kavinsky with the emoji pillow. The car did swerve this time, and horns were blared, but Kavinsky moved fast and they were back on the road.

“Are you sure you’re not suicidal?” Kavinsky asked skeptically. Adam rolled his eyes, but Kavinsky continued. “Driving is second nature to me, man. I know I do some weird shit but you don’t have to worry.”

“That’s what Ronan did too,” Adam snapped back bitterly. He didn’t know why he was suddenly irritated, except that it had irritated him every time Ronan had done this, even though nothing harmful had ever happened. His heart was calming down but the remnants of scare were still there and maybe Adam just didn’t like fearing for his life anymore.

Kavinsky made a disparaging noise at the mention of Ronan’s name and the rest of drive was silent, interrupted by Kavinsky’s commentary about other people and their driving under his breath. They finally reached the shop and saw the tables full. Kavinsky shrugged and cut into the drive-thru line and proceeded to ignore the blaring of the horns.

“The conversation you want to have probably isn’t appropriate for a public setting anyway,” Kavinsky noted, inching his car forward until the car behind him didn’t have a choice but to let him through with a final long beep of his horn. Adam took Kavinsky’s words as permission and started talking.

“What did you mean when you said you dreamt some of this car?” Adam asked, bringing up the most recent experience instead of immediately delving into the past. “Does that mean you still dream?”

“Why wouldn’t I still dream?” Kavinsky scoffed. “I stopped for a while during rehab, but really, the dream place was only as bad as I let it be.”

“I mean- well, we destroyed Cabeswater,” Adam said. “Kind of. My connection to it was severed, anyway.”

“You’re a vessel, not a dreamer,” Kavinsky said, shrugging. “And Cabeswater was never a pure dream place to begin with. Can Ronan still dream?”

“Last I checked.”

“I don’t know what Cabeswater was or if it was just Henrietta’s ley line that was corrupted, but not all ley line energies are like that, ergo, not all dream places are like that. Of course, it also depends on the person - it’s just that there are a lot more variables -”

“Variables,” Adam said.

“- yeah, variables. Like, think of it from a scientific point of view and-”

“A scientific point of view.”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” Kavinsky asked but amusement vibrated in his voice and shone in his eyes.

“No, please, continue your scientific study of the ley line and dream places,” Adam said evenly, but a smile was threatening to break out. It was a relief that they both realized the ridiculousness of this situation.

“As I was _saying_ , the quality of the ley line depends on various _variables_ such as, um, who is dreaming in it, how is it awakened, etcetera, etcetera, all that,” Kavinsky continued, waving his hands about as the car inched forward towards the window.

“And you _tested out_ your _hypothesis_?” Adam asked.

“Fuck you, Parrish, I’ll have you know I have a PhD,” Kavinsky proclaimed, and Adam’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Really?”

“No, I’m fucking with you - who has the patience for the shit? I do have a BSc though, so don’t fuck with me about this.” Kavinsky had a smile playing at his lips and Adam narrowed his eyes, trying to imagine Kavinsky in university, studying a science of all the things.

“What did you major in?”

“Chemistry. Helped me dream better, if that aligns better with your image of me,” Kavinsky said, shrugging, and it did make a lot more sense. The real question was what came first; Kavinsky’s curiosity or Kavinsky’s tendency to use that curiosity for forging and dreaming? The only thing stopping Adam from asking was him remembering that he came with Kavinsky to ask about dreaming, not grill Kavinsky about himself.

Before Adam could launch into another question, Kavinsky’s phone blared. It was a pop song, high pitched and impossible to ignore.

“Hey,” Kavinsky spoke as soon as he swiped the screen. “Yeah, I was.” A pause. “I’m with Parrish, we’re at a drive-thru.” Teeny screaming that even Adam could hear, even if it was incomprehensible to him. “You know you can just order fries from nearby and it’ll get there quicker, right, asshole? Okay- Okay, suck a fuck, goodbye.”

Kavinsky hung up to more teeny screaming from the speakers.

“Skov,” Kavinsky said by way of explanation. “You were saying?”

“Right.” Adam shook himself slightly. What _was_ he saying? “Did you actually test out your hypothesis though?”

“Yeah,” Kavinsky sounded thoughtful, the word elongating as he seemed to try to find the right words to explain. “Obviously, I went to rehab away from Henrietta and the leyline where I was at wasn’t as powerful; it wasn’t near a convergence so the pull wasn’t as strong. I didn’t dream much, willingly or not, but when I did, it was fine. Mellow. More like an actual dream than a magical one.”

Adam made a sound to indicate he was listening and very, _very_ interested. “After the pack finished senior year, we travelled around for a year. We weren’t really looking for ley lines but we stumbled across them more than once, so we- well, it was all Skov’s idea. He started recording all our findings like some god damn investigator. Somehow, we ended up seeking out different ley lines in different places, and we came to the riveting conclusion that they were all indeed different.”

“How different?” Adam asked as soon as Kavinsky stopped speaking. Kavinsky raised an eyebrow at him but instead of responding, he rolled down his window and started ordering. Adam realized they had made it to the window and when prodded by Kavinsky about what he wanted, he rattled off his order. When Adam moved to pay, though, Kavinsky just handed the server his credit card. Perhaps noticing Adam’s stony glare, Kavinsky sighed and turned to him.

“You can throw $5 in the cupholder if you’re so inclined, I’m sure Skov would be delighted to find it.” Kavinsky rolled his eyes when Adam proceeded to do exactly that.

“How did you end up in the big city anyway, Parrish?” Kavinsky asked. Adam thought it over, wondering how to explain his situation and his life up to this point, wondering whether he should be truthful or just shrug it out.

“Pretty generic rags to riches story,” Adam started out.

“There’s nothing generic about you, Adam,” Kavinsky interrupted with an amused huff. He waved his hand at Adam, indicating for him to continue.

“Got into a good university, got good grades. I still went to Gansey’s parties and galas, so I took the best opportunities and here we are.”

“And where is here?”

“Here, in a drive-thru, waiting for you to finish explaining,” Adam said passively and Kavinsky snorted. Kavinsky seemed to find amusement in everything.

“I’m thirsty. I need sustenance before I can continue my grand tale. It’s your turn to talk,” Kavinsky said, and Adam realized he couldn’t argue or shrug his way out of this one. This wasn’t a casual sharing of information and backstory, this was an exchange, a trade. It made Adam apprehensive of what was to come because while Kavinsky was asking him superficial things, Adam knew that for him to get anything substantial enough to quench his curiosity, he would need to offer something just as substantial back.

“I haven’t really been back to Henrietta since I left after senior year,” Adam admitted.

“It’s been 7 years. Your boyfriend lives there,” Kavinsky said, and the confusion was well masked but it was there. It was understandable. As far as Kavinsky knew, Adam had every reason to go back to Henrietta, to go back to his friend group who would still congregate there, to his small town where he grew up. Most people did, even people who hated everything about it, went back for some reason or the other.

“Ex,” Adam reminded. “And I hated Henrietta. I despise it still. Misremembered nostalgia won’t make me go back there. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“Hungry,” Kavinsky said, in an offhand way that made Adam think that he hadn’t exactly meant to say it outloud.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t remember much of Aglionby, if I’m being completely honest. I spent too much time being hyper fixated on different things, different people, and never actually at school or wherever I was. I couldn’t even tell you what classes I took. I remember you- mainly because you were with Gansey and Gansey was with Ronan and Ronan- I was never fixated on you.”

“Gee, thanks, still got that silver tongue,” Adam said drily.

“You were hungry, though,” Kavinsky continued, tone serious but eyes filled with mirth.

“Yeah, poverty does that to you.”

“No, no, not in that way- well, also in that way - didn’t Dick 3 feed you anything? You were hungry for something else, it was in your eyes.”

Adam made a noncommittal sound.

“You remember the Vancouver crowd?” Kavinsky tried again.

“I remember a rumor that you tried to kill Cheng2,” Adam offered.

“Mildly,” Kavinsky protested. “He shouldn’t touch my shit- _anyway_ , they always had this vibe, right? Like they were going places.”

“We went to Aglionby, Kavinsky. They’re all going places. They all went there. They’re there now. Henry is in running for Senator next year.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I was getting to. That hunger for- a future, I guess. You had that. And here you are.”

“Here I am, at a drive thru for greasy food that is taking way too long to get, with a drug dealer.”

“ _Ex_ -drug dealer, thank you very much. Now I deal in precious and rare artifacts,” Kavinsky said with a smirk. “And wisdom, of course.”

“Ah, yes, your talks are- something.”

“Such high praise, Parrish, really, tone it down a notch, I don’t put out on the first date.”

This is where Adam would have loudly slurped his drink, if he had one, which reminded him that he didn’t. He mentioned this to Kavinsky, who blared his torn until a frazzled looking employee showed up at the door and shoved their food at them, somehow glaring and smiling at them all at the same time. It startled a laugh out of Kavinsky, who took the bag she shoved at him and dumped it on Adam’s lap before screeching out of the drive thru.

Adam didn’t know where they were going but before he could ask, they were already there. It was a small park, one not far from his place actually, scattered with couples and teenagers just lounging and enjoying the cool breeze. Kavinsky rolled down the window but made no attempts to leave the car, instead turning towards Adam after parking and plucking the bag from his lap.

“What were we talking about?” he asked, rummaging through the bag and handing Adam some fries.

“You were telling me about different dream places, and I was telling you about how I haven’t been back to Henrietta.”

“Neither have I,” Kavinsky said, shrugging and barrelling on before Adam could comment on that revelation. “After rehab, the pack and I went to Europe. Proko wanted to meet his grandmother in Ukraine, the fucking sap, and it ending up being a backpacking trip across Europe.”

“High end backpacking,” Adam commented.

“Way, way high end, please,” Kavinsky responded, smirking. “I had stopped dreaming for a while, especially after rehab. I had dreamed pills that allowed me dreamless sleep. We were in some forest in Norway when I actually felt the ley line again, like it was calling to me. Skov lost his shit, obviously, and wanted to investigate, because he’s a fucking idiot.”

“You dreamt.”

“Yeah. I was surrounded by the pack, though, and I was - better. That probably had some effect on it but this ley line…” Kavinsky trailed off, a faraway look on his face. Adam allowed him a moment down memory lane before throwing a fry at him and bringing him back to the present. When he focused on Adam again, he let out a radiant smile that made Adam’s entire body pause and his heart skip a beat.

“That great, huh?” Adam asked, turning his eyes down to his meal. Kavinsky let out a full bodied laugh, and Adam couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“Parrish, I shit you not, there were these witches, okay, like white witches who were using the ley line for, like, soil fertility spells and it was just quite honestly the best energy I have ever felt. It was, like, the Mom ley line. I woke up one day with dreamed cookies.” Kavinsky grinned.

“Are you serious?”

“I couldn’t make this up if I fucking tried, Parrish, I swear to god. I’m pretty sure Swan took a picture. I mean, they were weed cookies but that’s something.”

“That’s amazing,” Adam said, and it was sincere. Cabeswater, when it used Adam as a vessel, was powerful and deep, and Adam could only imagine the feeling if Cabeswater hadn’t been as wounded as it was.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. Anyway, we stumbled across a few more and Skov started taking the information down. They weren’t all the same at all. Some were like the Norwegian one and others were over battlegrounds and other stuff like that and they were… corrupted.” Kavinsky made it seem like ‘corrupted’ was an understatement.

“So what was your theory?” Adam asked, eyes flickering to the clock on the dashboard. It was getting late.

“Our theory was that the nature of the ley line depended on a few things, such as how it was awakened and for what purpose, who did the awakening and who the vessel for it was,” Kavinsky said. He paused, looked at Adam with a look that was too intense to be directed at someone with fries in his mouth and then turned back, revving the engine of the car.

“Where do you live?” Kavinsky asked, reversing out of the parking spot. Adam raised his eyebrows, not appreciating the sudden deviation of topic. “Honestly, Parrish, you should really teach your kids those looks. They’re _chilling_.”

“I’m not inviting you up,” Adam said instead of responding.

“I said I didn’t put out on the first date, didn’t I?” Kavinsky retorted back. “I should get going though, the pack will be worried and it’s getting late. We can do this again sometime.”

“Aha! That’s your plan, huh? Ensuring a second time.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes, Parrish,” Kavinsky said, shrugging. Adam bit back a smile and told Kavinsky the way to his apartment. By the time they had reached Adam’s building, Adam was slurping the last of the drink.

“I’m a little unsure as to how this day even started,” Adam admitted.

“I’m sure you weren’t expecting me to drop you home but here we are.”

“Here we are.”

Here they were, and Adam sighed to himself and pushed his door open.

“I’ll see you around?” Adam said, slamming the door shut, not expecting the words to come out as a question.

“Yeah, Parrish. You probably will,” Kavinsky said brightly. Adam shook his head and turned away, walking towards his building without so much as a goodbye. He wondered if he should look back, if Kavinsky was still there or if he had driven away. He wondered if he was being a fucking idiot.

He looked back.

Kavinsky’s eyes looked back at him, amusement evident in them, but for once, Adam didn’t feel like Kavinsky was laughing _at_ him. His eyes weren’t expectant, but they were waiting.

“Hey,” Adam called out. “You never did tell me what you meant about your car. It was my first question, you should at least answer that.”

Adam heard Kavinsky’s laugh till the door.

“I’m not going to yell my number out, Parrish, you’re going to have to come here and get it.”

Adam rolled his eyes but walked back anyway. He chose this, and he was going through with it.

“Don’t get any ideas, Kavinsky,” Adam said, handing him his unlocked phone.

“Ideas? Me? Never,” Kavinsky responded, dialing his number onto Adam’s phone and calling himself. “I do love texting though. Emojis are at least 30% of my personality I don’t get to show in the real world.”

Kavinsky handed Adam back his phone and this time, when Adam walked away, he didn’t look back. If he smiled when he heard a honk and the revving of a smooth engine, that was between him and Hades, the building cat that followed him inside.


	2. Chapter 2

The arrival of Kavinsky in his life didn’t disrupt his routine as much as Adam would have guessed it would. Kavinsky hadn’t been kidding when he said he loved texting. Adam woke up the next morning to 7 texts, none with more information on dreaming and yet all made Adam smile.

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** skov wants you to know he has a powerpoint presentation on the ley line study

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
now he’s making us all watch it, fuck you, parrish, this is all ur fault

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** IT’S IN COMIC SANS

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
_[image attached]_

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
can u make sense of this wtf

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
nvm skov wants your email he wants 2 send it 2 u

 **_Gansey_ **   
Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow night?

Adam stopped short in his underwear in the middle of the room. Tomorrow night? A quick flashback to his mental calendar reminded him of the event his internship boss had strongly recommended he go to. He rolled back on his heels, wondering if he wanted to show up with Gansey.

 **_You_ **   
Aren’t you going with Henry?

 **_Gansey_ **   
Henry’s going to arrive ‘fashionably late’

 **_You_ **   
Um. Okay, yeah, pick me up.

 **_Gansey_ ** **_  
_ ** :D :D

Adam smiled, shaking his head at his best friend. He proceeded to get dressed and go about his morning routine and left the house for his internship. It was on the 1723rd step that he realized he had never responded to Kavinsky’s text.

 **_You_ **   
Somehow I don’t think giving Skov my email would be the best idea

 **_Kavinsky_ ** ****__  
u right but like…….. He Want it  
its ok tho he’ll forget abt it in like 1 day if u dont mention it

 **_You_ ** **_  
_ ** Did you mention it?

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
no parrish the baby boy is still asleep   
what are u doing up anyway

 **_You_ **   
Internship. Work.

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
LMAO RIP

Adam rolled his eyes, unsure what to reply to that and slipped his phone back in his pocket. It wasn’t until he was sitting at his desk that it buzzed again.

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** have a nice day, parrish

Adam bit back a smile but he wasn’t as successful as he wanted to be since his neighbor shot him a strange look. Adam bent his head down and got to work proofreading a ridiculously large pile of papers. He didn’t really pay attention to his phone for the rest of the day and worked hard to finish everything he needed to so he wouldn’t have to tomorrow. It didn’t matter how well fitted the suit was if he looked like he had been dragged through death itself. His boss had told him that she would attend the event as well so Adam wouldn’t be needed around the office. Adam thought about going to the youth centre but then realized he just wanted to sleep in and proceeded to go home and do just that. He didn’t pay any heed to his phone until the buzzing woke him up.

**_GANSEY CALLING…_ **

“What.” Adam said, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Morning!” Gansey replied cheerfully.

“No.”

“Okay, great, I’m getting breakfast so you have plenty of time to wake up. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Fuck off.”

“Love you too, bye!” Gansey hung up and Adam fell back asleep with the phone poking his neck. Adam didn’t wake up again until the incessant ringing of the bell pierced his ears. He got up, half asleep, dragging his blanket behind him and opened the door to glare at Gansey’s wide grin for 5 seconds before turning away and trying to slink back into his room.

“I got breakfast!” Gansey chirped cheerfully and it’s moments like these that makes Adam bemoan the fact that he kept Gansey instead of Ronan. Ronan wouldn’t be cheerful in the morning. Ronan wouldn’t bribe Adam with _breakfast_. He stood in the middle of the apartment, wondering if breakfast was worth it when Gansey gently guided him to the washroom and closed the door behind him. So it was settled.

A much more awake Adam emerged from the shower 20 minutes later. He threw on whatever he could find that was clean enough and fell into a chair at the kitchen counter that served as a  breakfast bar. Solitude had not dimmed Gansey’s cheeriness as he slid a plate piled high with breakfast foods at Adam. Adam grunted thanks and dug in, only noticing moments later that Gansey was still looking at him, arms propped on the counter, chin in hand.

“You’re staring,” Adam pointed out. This was too common an occurrence to make Adam stop eating.

“You look well rested,” Gansey commented happily.

“Intern boss let me take the morning off,” Adam said by way of explaining.

“Oh? Is he going to be at the event tonight? What’s his name?” Gansey said, a thoughtful look on his face as he sipped his tea, the steam fogging up his glasses. Adam rolled his eyes and gave Gansey his boss’s name, even though Gansey had met _her_ at least 7 times already. Then their conversation dissolved into talk about the event. Adam was torn between dissuading Gansey from wearing a scarf indoors to save Henry embarrassment and egging him on so he could make fun of him and take pictures. Finally, it came time for Adam to change and he sent a picture to Henry to let him deal with Gansey’s sad fashion choices.

Adam’s suit was tailored, something he had saved up for because it wasn’t just a suit but an investment, an asset. Adam knew what looks meant to the people he was surrounded by and he aimed to project the image of an Adam he knew he could be. He chose a 3 piece and felt a profoundness in him as he buttoned up his vest. He smiled at his reflection. It was the best he could do, and after all the hard work he had put in, it was pretty damn fucking good. Gansey wolf whistled as Adam exited his room and Adam rolled his eyes, wondering where exactly Gansey learned to wolf whistle.

“Why, Mr. Parrish,” Gansey said breathlessly, fanning himself and Adam jostled his shoulders against his.

“Shut up, you scarf wearing fuck, I can’t believe Henry let you wear that.”

“Oh, he didn’t, he said he would burn it if he saw it. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself while he’s not around. You won't tell, right?”

“Um, I absolutely will, he’ll introduce me to cool people.”

“ _I_ introduce you to cool people!” Gansey protested, sounding deeply offended. Adam made an affirming sound before Gansey could start pouting and stole the keys to Gansey’s Lincoln.

“I’m driving,”

They arrived at the event to a large crowd milling about and photographer’s lights flashing. One look at the scene and Gansey urged Adam to take the back entrance. Adam obliged. The back entrance was much more sparse with people and no photographers Adam could see.The valet started towards them, a wide smile on his face as he opened the door and took the key from Adam. He greeted Gansey by name before ducking into the driver’s seat, leaving Adam and Gansey at the entrance. Adam could hear music and voices and took a deep breath before putting on his game face. Beside him, Gansey stood straighter. He paused before he opened the door.

“I’m famished,” He noted mildly and Adam sighed.

“The food is inside, Gansey-boy,” A voice came from behind them. They both turned to find themselves face to face with Jiang’s amused face.

“Oh. Hello,” Gansey said, automatically reaching his hand out for a shake. Jiang humored him before a scoff cut through the tension. Adam’s attention shifted to the man beside Jiang, who was mid-eye roll. Adam recognized him too, but couldn’t place him immediately.

“Can we please go inside?” He said. Gansey blinked and then opened the door and hurried inside, Adam quickly following. He turned and threw one last look at Jiang, who was now ushering his date in, guiding him with a hand on his back. The interior allowed him sufficient distraction, the glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the sprawling hall, making the magnificence sparkle. The space buzzed with chatter and Adam recognized several familiar faces, which always pleasantly surprised him. He nodded his head at his internship boss when they made eye contact. The look she sent him told him she’ll find him later and that he was allowed to mingle independently for now. Adam smiled at a few people and shook hands with more, Gansey at his side doing the bulk of the talking with Adam adding his two cents every once in a while.

They had this act down to a T, with Gansey being the talkative intellectual who put people at ease and Adam being the quieter grounded person that offered more insight on certain matters. It assured that when people thought of certain topics, they would remember Adam’s commentary rather than Gansey’s. It was a good hour and a half before they approached Jiang and his date, who were whispering among themselves at the moment.

“Parrish, Gansey,” Jiang said, smiling. “It’s been a while. You remember Koh?”

Adam did remember, once he put a name to the face. Taemin Koh, or Koh as he was called in Aglionby, had been part of the Vancouver crowd, commonly seen around Henry or during his student council duties. He didn’t remember if Jiang and Koh had any relationship in school, except for the insults they would occasionally hurl at each other, seemingly at random, sometimes in English but mostly in Korean or Chinese. How they went from that to draping over each other, Adam didn’t know.

“Oh, hello,” Gansey said, extending his hand and shaking Koh’s, then Jiang's. “Henry hasn’t arrived yet but I’m sure he would love to meet you.”

“I’m sure,” Koh said, the tone of his voice stating he was skeptical of that statement. He was perfectly cordial, though, making small talk with Gansey for a bit before turning to Adam.

“I heard you’ve run into K a couple of times,” Koh said. When Koh spoke, his tone seemed to show his feelings a lot more than the words he used. At the mention of Kavinsky, his tone become lighter and seemingly teasing. Gansey stiffened beside Adam.

“Have you?” Adam said steadily, throwing a look at Jiang, who shrugged.

“We live in the same building as Kavinsky, so we hang out a lot,” Koh explained. “Kavinsky isn’t one to- well, shut up.”

“Really? It seems like a task and a half to get anything out of him,” Adam said, thinking back to Kavinsky’s control over the amount of information he gave out about the ley lines.

“He’s just trying to be coy to impress you,” Koh said with a laugh and even Jiang let out a fond snort. “Normally, he doesn’t shut up about things he’s interested in. Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you.”

“And what would he be interested in?” Gansey said, his tone a sharp contrast to the comfortable teasing atmosphere that had settled.

“Oh, you know,” Koh said, hiding his smile behind a sip. He seemed to be enjoying Gansey’s reaction as well, eyeing him with mirth. “Our boy K hasn’t really stopped talking about how _interesting_ he finds Adam, and how turtlenecks seem to look _better_ on Adam, and how _intelligent_ Adam is and-”

“Seems like he has an obsessive personality,” Gansey commented breezily, though Adam saw him clutching his glass.

“Ah, Gansey,” Koh said with a laugh that was slick with barely concealed antagonism. “You always do see the worst in people you don’t like. I would say he’s more curious than anything else. All of us get a little strange when we get a crush.”

Gansey choked on his drink and Adam thumped his back dully.

“C-crush?” Gansey choked out.

“Oh, there’s Henry!” Jiang proclaimed suddenly, raising his voice at the name so that Henry looked over and smiled, making their way towards them.

“Babe, are you okay?” Henry asked when he was close enough, as Gansey was still clutching his collar.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Gansey said, clearing his throat. The rest of the conversation was taken up by small talk and talks of campaigns and politics before the duo started making rounds again with Henry in tow, leaving Koh and Jiang behind. The evening passed uneventfully from there on out and it wasn’t until he was back home that he let out a breath and shed his demeanor.

Inside, his flatmate was hunched over the breakfast bar with cup ramen in front of him, scrolling through his phone. Ismail Nuh was a good flatmate, really. He paid the rent on time, bought groceries and didn’t label his stuff and was aggressively hospitable. Even better, he spent most of his time in his room, or outside and never seemed to want anything more from Adam than a friendly flatmate, which Adam was willing to provide. He hardly ever brought over friends or hookups and seemed perfectly content with their arrangement. Adam had really hit the flatmate jackpot if he was being honest.

Ismail looked up at the sound of the door opening and closing and smiled at Adam, a toothy joyful thing. Adam smiled back and waved.

“You’re dressed fancy,” Ismail commented.

“Event,” Adam responded. Ismail made an acknowledging sound and tilted his cup in Adam’s direction as a silent offering. Adam considered it, thinking about the small pieces of cuisine the party had served.

“Is there another cup?” He asked, loosening his tie and wrapping his coat over the back of a chair.

“Yeah, it’s in that cupboard, I bought so many, dude, I don’t even know why. The water’s pretty hot so it should boil in seconds!”

Adam nodded and set to work. Ismail had a tendency to bulk buy things instinctively and sometimes, it was great but it wasn’t so good when it was things that were disgusting, like when he bought 10 whole fish because he felt bad for the man selling them. It felt easier to accept things from Ismail because of this. Ismail poured a glass of water for Adam before turning back to his phone. They ate in comfortable silence, with Ismail silently passing Adam napkins for his running nose and pouring him more water.

By the time Adam made it to bed, he was full and comfortable, earlier tension from Gansey having melted by Ismail’s unexpecting calm presence. Snuggling into his comforter, he wondered if he should check his phone but then opted to sleep instead.

Sunday morning found Adam sleeping in, only blearily opening his eyes around 10 a.m. He tried to think about what he needed to do that day and when his still sleepy brain couldn’t provide him any answers, he went on to search for them on his phone. His to-do was scarce and Adam sighed happily. He didn’t have to leave the flat today. His fingers wandered to the messages app and he saw a 5 next to Kavinsky’s name.

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** a birdy told me that they met u yesterday

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** that birdy is named koh taemin and is actually the devil

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** dont believe anything that demon says

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** he would sell u to satan for 1 corn chip!

 **_Kavinsky_ ** **_  
_ ** :(

Adam huffed a laugh at Kavinsky’s dramatics before typing out his response.

 **_You_ **   
:)

 **_You_ **   
You don’t think I’m intelligent and interesting? I’m hurt.

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
sdafhsdkf i didn’t say THAT

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
i would rather tell u my thoughts myself

 **_You:_ **   
I do look pretty great in a turtleneck.

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
koh is DEAD, i dont CARE how whipped jiang is

 **_You:_ **   
Don’t shoot the messenger

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
why not knife emoji

 **_You:_ **   
Did you just type out knife emoji?

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
ya

 **_You:_ **   
Great. I want to know more about the dreaming

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
do u want Skov’s pp :3

 **_You:_ **   
No.

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
sad, it’s quite smth. wanna grab brunch?

Adam mulled over his plans for the day. He really didn’t want to leave the house.

 **_You:_ **   
I don’t wanna leave my flat

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
ok do u want me 2 bring the brunch 2 u

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
proko made some killer french toast and i could grab stuff from a bakery

Adam froze, wondering how to respond. What did he _want_? Did he want Kavinsky in his apartment on his one day off, even if he did come bearing food? He wished he could message Gansey about this as he usually did, asking for assistance in forming a reply. He knew, however, that Gansey would not be helpful in this scenario. It made him mildly sad. In the end, his curiosity won out.

 **_You:_ **   
Yeah, okay, if you’re sure you wanna trek that over.

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
cool. r u a coffee or a tea person

 **_You:_ **   
Tea when I don’t have to be awake. Something milky or sweet.

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
awwwwwwwwwwwww

 **_You:_ **   
What

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
:3333

 **_You:_ **   
That means nothing to me

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
send me ur location

 **_You:_ **   
[Location Pin Attached]

 **_You:_ **   
Flat 502

 **_You:_ **   
Get enough for a potential flatmate

 **_Kavinsky:_ **   
kk, see ya i gotta get off my ass see u soon

Adam rolled his eyes at the kissing emojis and sighed before rolling out of bed. He set about washing up and changing into something comfortable but more sociable. He started doing his chores waiting for Kavinsky to arrive and by the time the bell rang, he had his laundry in, his room cleaned up and a grocery list made.

The door swung open to reveal Kavinsky looking ridiculously put together for 11:30 a.m. on a Sunday.

“Hello,” Kavinsky said pleasantly, though his smile held a more teasing edge. Adam rolled his eyes and allowed him inside.

“Cozy,” Kavinsky commented, looking around. “Where’s the flatmate?”

“He’ll show up when he feels like it,” Adam said shrugging, throwing a look at Ismail’s closed door.

“This one’s alive, right?” Kavinsky said dryly. Adam shot him a glare and Kavinsky help up his laden arms in surrender as much as he could. “Sorry. That was in bad taste.”

Adam huffed, the memory of Noah suddenly creating a suffocating atmosphere in the small apartment. Kavinsky cautiously approached the breakfast bar and started taking out things from the bags he brought. Adam instinctively moved forward and took out plates and cups for them.

“What happened to that boy, anyway?” Kavinsky asked and this time, there was nothing in his voice indicating teasing or mockery.

“Noah, um- From what Gansey told me, he passed on. How did you know he was a ghost?”

“Same way I knew Ronan was a dreamer, around the same time too. I observed. No one else saw the boy, he never attended any classes despite his uniform. No one seemed to know who I was talking about. Didn’t take long to find him in an year book and also find out his- fate.” Kavinsky said conversationally and Adam realized Kavinsky knew a lot about a time during which Adam was mostly preoccupied with surviving and Glendower.

“Why didn’t you say anything to Ronan or Gansey about it?”

“What do you mean?” Kavinsky tilted his head in confusion.

“You knew before Ronan and Gansey and I found out. Why didn’t you tell us? Or at least Ronan.” Adam remembered how hard Ronan had taken Noah’s death and all the times he disappeared.

“What - wait, you’re telling me Dick 3 and Lynch didn’t notice their flatmate and close friend didn’t attend any classes, eat, drink and no one seemed to notice his existence for _years_ ? They _lived together_.” Kavinsky said, his voice sincerely incredulous. Adam didn’t know what to say to that. It was true it was ridiculous and made them seem very self-centered but they were simply teenagers caught up in their own world, Gansey with his Glendower search and Ronan with his teenage angst and trauma.

“Damn,” Kavinsky whispered, going back to taking out food. So far, waffles and french toast were piled up, with a box of baked goods from a store coming out as well. “I get concerned when Skov doesn’t eat for 2 days and he doesn’t even live with me. How could- wow. And Noah too, that boy didn’t shut up about being dead.”

“Did you ever meet him?” Adam asked, cracking a smile in nostalgia for Noah’s dry humor and antics.

“Once or twice. He was pretty weak, but he showed up once when I was in dream limbo after a bad drug trip. He was chill, he kept the nightmares away.” Kavinsky said, finally stuffing the plastic bags into each other and into a small bowl, revealing the feast he had brought. Adam took a seat on the opposite side of the bar, simply because he felt it would be easier to have a conversation.

“Dream limbo?” Adam asked, poking Prokopenko’s french toast suspiciously before Kavinsky took one and theatrically bit into it.

“It’s not poisoned, Parrish,” Kavinsky said, rolling his eyes. “And yeah, dream limbo. Sometimes, I’d-um. Overestimate my tolerance and try to dream on a drug but instead, I’d just be super out of it in the dream place instead and that was probably the worst idea, considering how awful the Henrietta dream place is.”

“I wanna know more about your whole theory,” Adam said.

“Are you sure you don’t want Skov’s-”

“Positive.”

“Okay, okay,” Kavinsky laughed. He took a sip of tea, seemingly thinking his words over before continuing. “I’ll start with the Henrietta dream place since that’s the one you’re familiar with. The being that was in it, the forest- Cabeswater, you called it?-, was not- How do I put this? It wasn’t the best place but it wasn’t the worst either? It was also draining a lot of energy from the leyline.”

“Cabeswater?” Adam asked, confused. He always assumed Cabeswater was simply part of the leyline.

“Yeah, which I would have _explained_ to Lynch if he had fucking _asked_ \- nevermind. In the past. Mine and Ronan’s collectively dreaming combined couldn’t really have drained the leyline as much as everyone thought it did. Even Ronan with his nightmares every night and me with my cars and drugs shouldn’t have been _such_ a strain on a newly awakened leyline. Ergo, Cabeswater manifesting probably drained it a lot more than any shit dreamers dreamt up.”

“How do you know about Cabeswater physically manifesting?”

“Connections, Parrish. Just because I left Henrietta doesn’t mean my people did,”

“Connections?” Adam made his voice as flat as possible, which made Kavinsky smile.

“Declan Lynch,” Kavinsky said and Adam almost choked.

“ _Declan Lynch_ ,” Adam coughed out.

“There’s no need to be so shocked. Declan knew I was a dreamer, knew was part of the underground magical black market. He gave me the information out of need to preserve the secret. We needed to work together to keep up the illusion of the Greywaren being a thing rather than a person or his precious brother would be hunted for life. I’d keep the diplomacy and he’d give me the information he had on the dream place,”

“He told you Cabeswater had started to physically manifest, and you figured that was draining the leyline?”

“He told me they’d stuck his mom in there for a bit, and that you lot kept walking into it. That shit is taxing, Parrish,”

“Do you have evidence to support that, though?”

“Not entirely, since this is mostly theory but I’ve been dreaming for a long time, even way back when Papa Lynch was alive and that man probably dreamt more shit than I did in his prime and the leyline was fine with me, him _and_ Ronan dreaming on it. Imagine my shock when Ronan told me to suddenly stop without giving me any explanation.”

“So you kidnapped his brother and all _that_ happened,” Adam said, deciding there was no reason to tiptoe around it. Kavinsky shrugged.

“That was stupid of me. And embarrassing, just plan-wise, it was _terrible_. I’m ashamed of myself, I could have come up with something better if I wasn’t in the middle of a mental breakdown.” Kavinsky said, his tone somewhat grumpy.

“You’re ashamed you didn’t come up with a more effective plan? Not that you _kidnapped_ someone.”

“Do you want excuses? I don’t want to give them to you. I did what I did and what I did was wrong. A lot of factors, including my mental health and my trauma, led me to behave the way I did but it was still wrong and just because I had a reason to behave a certain way doesn’t excuse it.” Kavinsky said, almost in one breath.

“Wow. That’s practiced, you delivered that great. Good job.”

“Thank you. My therapist made me repeat it every day until I got it through my thick skull.” Kavinsky said proudly and Adam smiled at him.

“Stop that,” Kavinsky said.

“Stop what?” Adam asked, still grinning.

“Stop looking at me like that, Adam, Jesus fuck. Do I get brownie points from you for my efforts at being a decent human being?” Kavinsky grumbled, stabbing his waffle with precision.

“You should talk more about this with the kids at the centre,” Adam said after a moment.

“I have, a couple of times. You weren’t there,” Kavinsky added when Adam shot him a look. “I do occasionally drop by when you’re not there, you know.”

“Thought more about the renovations?” Adam asked.

“Yes, but weren’t we talking about the dream place?” Kavinsky sounded amused and Adam realized it was always like this, almost like the dream place was simply an excuse to talk to Kavinsky. And maybe it was.

“We have time to talk about the dream place later,” Adam said, looking at Kavinsky. Kavinsky stared back and something in eyes was almost vulnerable. Adam wanted to look away but he didn’t.

“Sure. Later. It’s heavy stuff,” Kavinsky said finally.

“Too much information. Gotta take a break.” Adam said with a smile and Kavinsky scoffed.

“You’re a sneaky one, Parrish.” Kavinsky accused, waving his fork at Adam in a way that was meant to be menacing but the fact that he had sugar around his mouth took away from that tone. Adam simply laughed, and for a while, they just ate in comfortable silence. It wasn’t until Adam was piling the dishes into soap water that he realized his dilemma.

See, Adam’s living room- well, it wasn’t much of a living room. Ismail and Adam had both agreed the space was too tiny for the usual couch and TV set up and instead, they chose to leave the space open with small plants and other decorative things that didn’t take up much space, alongside shelves for things that didn’t fit in their respective rooms. Whenever Gansey came over, they would hang out in Adam’s room. Which meant he would have to take Kavinsky into his bedroom.

Adam took a deep breath and turned around, only to find Kavinsky sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a particularly leafy plant, flicking its leaves with one finger and taking pictures with another.

‘Quite an aesthetic look you’ve got going on here, Parrish,” Kavinsky said. “I always knew you were the studyblr type.”

“Funny,” Adam said, sitting beside him. “Who are you sending pictures of Andrew to?” Kavinsky froze.

“You named your plant?” Kavinsky asked, eyes wide. “You named it _Andrew_ , what the fuck?”

“What’s wrong with naming my plant Andrew?” Adam asked calmly.

“If you don’t already know, I don’t think I can explain it to you,” Kavinsky said weakly. Adam hummed, bringing up his knees to hug them against his chest. He simply looked at Kavinsky for a moment, as Kavinsky took picture after picture of their surroundings from differing angles muttering about how shook his followers were going to be.

“So, renovations?” Adam asked finally when Kavinsky had contorted himself into some shape to get a good angle on a budding flower.

“Yeah,” Came Kavinsky’s reply, slightly out of breath. “We were thinking simple renovations at first. New paint job, furniture, supplies, stuff like that. We could donate the current ones to kids in need to take home, you know? Skov wants to change the colors because the mustard makes him want to gag. Thinking of gathering some acquaintances to fundraise.”

“Is this what your parties have evolved to?” Adam said with a smirk. Kavinsky smiled back, uncoiling himself.

“Glow up, Parrish.”

“Mhm. Anyone I know?”

“The old vancouver crew. Henry Cheng, if he bothers to show up. Morris, some other kids.”

They continue talking, there on the floor, for what seemed like half an hour but what was actually closer to 2 hours. Then Kavinsky excused himself, saying something about Skov and a pop-up market and did Adam want to join them? Adam reminded Kavinsky that he very much did not want to leave his apartment. Kavinsky promised to get him something just as he closed to the door but by the time Adam opened it again to yell at him, Kavinsky’s laughter was fading behind closing elevator doors.

It isn’t until well into the evening, after Adam did the remainder of his chores and tasks, that he flopped onto bed with his laptop and his phone, ready for mindlessness in some form or another. He stared at his browser page, still logged into Gansey’s Netflix. What should he watch? _What would Kavinsky watch?_ Shut _up_ , brain, thanks.

His phone lit up, as though mocking him and his train of thought.

 **_Gansey_ **   
What’re you doing? Do you want to grab dinner?

 **_You_ **   
I don’t want to leave my flat

 **_Gansey_ **   
Have you eaten today?

 **_You_ **   
Yes, mom :3

 **_Gansey_ **   
What

 **_You_ **   
How do I delete messages

 **_Gansey_ **   
DID YOU JUST :3 ME

 **_Gansey_ **   
THIS IS KAVINSKY’S FAULT

 **_Gansey_ **   
I JUST KNOW IT

 **_You_ **   
Leave him alone. What do I watch on Netflix?

 **_Gansey_ **   
Netfwix?

 **_You_ **   
As Ronan would say: choke

 **_Gansey_ **   
Haha

 **_Gansey_ **   
It was a joke

 **_Gansey_ **   
Adam, reply to me :(

 **_Gansey_ **   
I love you, please forgive me

 **_Henry Cheng_ **   
Please respond to Gansey, he’s crying into his salad

 **_Henry Cheng_ **   
[image attached]

 **_Gansey_ **   
Take your time :( I’ll be waiting <3

Adam snickered into his pillow. He knew Gansey would be fine, that he was being overdramatic for the sake of being overdramatic. He sighed, smiling to himself before realizing he still didn’t know what to watch. An idea flitted through his mind. He tapped his fingers aimlessly against his sleeping phone, contemplating before giving in.

 **_You_ **   
What should I watch on Netflix

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
netflix and chill??? w/o me????? :(

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
have u watched black sails?

 **_You_ **   
No

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
ok  watch that :3

 **_You_ **   
Fuck you and your :3

 **_You_ **   
What’s Black Sails about?

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
dshafksdf why so hostile what did my :3 ever do to u :(((( uwu

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
pirates

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
and gay

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
gay pirates

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
it’s violent and shit tho so idk if u’d be into that

 **_You_ **   
That’s fine I guess

It was true. Adam very rarely felt disturbed by displays of violence and gore, especially in fiction. He fast forwarded through most of the needless violence. Another message startled Adam out of his thoughts.

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
i could watch it with u, fast forward thru the gorey shit

 **_You_ **   
Aren’t you with Skov at some market thing?

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
we JUST finished. swan wanted dinner so now we’re looking 4 food

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
u could watch smth lighthearted for now??

 **_You_ **   
Yeah, I would prefer that right now

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
brooklyn 99?

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
the good place?

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
ONE DAY AT A TIME

 **_You_ **   
Okay then

 **_You_ **   
Thanks

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
have fun uwuwuww as much as u can w/o me ;)))

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
why dont u REPLY :((( goodnight i hope ur sleeping and not bingewatching bc sleep is imp

 **_You_ **   
Goodnight :)

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
:)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Adam finally met Skov a few days after the brunch with Kavinsky, when he walked into the centre to see him lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling with neon circular sunglasses on. Two younger girls were crouched beside him, talking in hushed whispers.

“What,” Adam’s clear voice startled them out of their quiet reprieve. “Exactly is going on here?”

Skov sat upright abruptly and one of the girls let out a shrill screech.

“He’s not dead!” She told her friend urgently. Her friend blinked her large eyes.

“Mister, why are you on the floor?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Adam remarked pointedly, glaring at Skov.

“The ceiling is very interesting,” Skov said, his voice rougher than Adam remembered it, although he didn’t really remember _much_ of it, so he wasn’t the best judge. The other three in the corridor looked up to find the same ceiling with cracks along the edges and a faded white color. The girls shot Skov an extremely judgemental look Adam agreed with and walked off with an air of superiority. No matter where they were in life, at least they weren’t lying on the floor staring at boring ceilings.

“Parrish!” Skov said excitedly. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“And you,” Adam said wearily, shaking Skov’s extended hand. Skov had three birthmark dots on his forearms (Adam counted) and two on his face. They were stark against his light brown skin. Other things stark against Skov’s skin: his startling highlighter on his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.

“Really? What _slander_ did Jiang and K spread about me?” Skov asked, his pretty green eyes narrowing. They, too, had glitter around them. Overall, Skov was very shiny.

“Um- renovations?” Adam said belatedly, still distracted by the shimmer. Skov brightened up, impossibly so.

“Yes! Do you want to know my ideas?” Skov asked enthusiastically and then launched into his explanation after a single nod from Adam.

Skov spoke well, getting his point across with complex and simple words and massive hand gestures. He spoke chaotically about seemingly complex things which he easily simplified into a few sentences in his conclusion before jumping on to the next point. After half an hour talking about color palettes, paint brands and aesthetics, Adam felt he had sat through five TED talks. By the time Skov had dropped Adam off to his class, waving goodbye happily, Adam already had his phone out.

 **_You_ **   
So about that ppp Skov made

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
sdafhsdkjfasd

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
oh my god are u ok did someone abduct u is someone forcing you to say this

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
is SKOV forcing u to say this

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
he SAID he was gonna go to the centre today fuckdshfajksdf

 **_You_ **   
No, nothing like that, I’m just interested

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
i’m telling u everything thats in pp

 **_You_ **   
You are very slow

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
YOU’RE THE ONE WHO SAID WE HAVE ““““TIME””””

 **_Kavinsky_ **   
u unhonest flirt :/

 **_You_ **   
[ adamparrish@gmail.com ](mailto:adamparrish@gmail.com)

**_Kavinsky_ **   
ur so cold :c

Adam smiled at his phone before putting it away and turning his attention to his children, one of whom was cursing at a workbook with intense hatred. Parkinson stopped by as he was packing up after 3 hours, pulling on a hoodie he kept in the drawer.

“How was today?” Parkinson asked pleasantly, leaning against the door frame.

“It was good. They’re getting better.” And they were. When Adam had arrived, most of the children barely had interest in their education. Now, they had- well, _some_ interest.

“That’s good. So your friend is setting up a fundraiser for the centre. Says he can charm his way to getting a significant amount of money from his rich friends.”

“He probably can,” Adam said honestly. If anyone could schmozzle money out of rich people, it was Kavinsky. Despite everything, he _had_ run a successful business out of his home and Aglionby while he was a teenager.

“Yeah, seems like a good kid,” Adam snorted at that and Parkinson raised his eyebrows at him.

“That’s probably the first time I’ve heard anyone call Kavinsky that, is all.” Adam said with a smile.

“Well, he does. Anyway, I just came to say that you should make a list of things you and your class may need. Resources, books, equipment, the lot. Also if you have any ideas about other things we could use the money for.”

“Sure,” Adam agreed and bid Parkinson goodnight, before stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets and exiting the building to face the chill of the night. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw a familiar car with a familiar figure leaning against it, head bowed over their phone, typing furiously. Adam’s phone pinged barely a second later and Kavinsky looked up and gave Adam a wide smile Adam couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Hey,” Adam said, going to stand in front of Kavinsky. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was in the area. Wanted to see if you wanted to grab some dinner,” Kavinsky said, looking up at Adam before his eyes wandered down. “Are you wearing a hoodie?”

“Yes?”

“Oh. You look nice.” Kavinsky said, flicking at a drawstring. Adam flushed.

“Um. Thanks?” It came out more of a question than a statement.

“Very huggable.” Kavinsky commented, fingers brushing against the material at Adam’s forearms.

“Aren’t I always though?” Adam asked drily. Kavinsky turned away abruptly but not before Adam saw the reddening of his ears.

“Dinner?”

“Sure,” Adam said easily, sliding into the passenger seat and feeling a sudden sense of deja vu. It wasn’t long ago Adam had first sat in Kavinsky’s car and even though this was only the second time, he was already so much more comfortable, burrowing himself into the seat and crossing his legs. Music came on as Kavinsky entered the car, [ something soft and foreign ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hK1ZPDaK_k0), though Adam couldn’t pinpoint the language. There wasn’t a heavy base, and the car ride to the restaurant Adam had told Kavinsky to choose was comfortably silent, with Kavinsky occasionally joining into the singing instinctively at the catchier bits, clearly not fluent in the language at all.

“How do you always find parking right in front of where you need to be?” Adam asked as Kavinsky slid into a parking in front of the a small restaurant.

“I figured it’s the universe’s way of repaying me for all the shit it put me through,” Kavinsky replied brightly before hopping off the car. They came to a stop in front of the door and Kavinsky hummed happily to himself before barging in. Adam followed, listening to the bell ring by the door as Kavinsky threw it open. Kavinsky walked over to a table in the corner and settled in while Adam sat down in front of him, looking around.

The restaurant wasn’t anything special, with nothing visually sticking out or making a particular impression. It _smelled_ amazing, though, the aroma of spices filling up the space and making Adam’s mouth water. They quickly ordered the food, the menu offering basic dishes from several cuisines. When Adam’s pasta and Kavinsky’s Indian curry and naan were placed in front of them, any hopes of a slow meal were destroyed. The food was practically inhaled and after, Kavinsky eyed Adam suspiciously.

“Are you sure you ate today?” Kavinsky asked, settling back when ¾ of his meal was inside him.

“I mean- yeah,” Adam said, still a little dazed. He didn’t remember being that ravenous and was a bit surprised at himself as well. “I guess I was hungry?”

“I guess,” Kavinsky laughed and Adam really enjoyed the sound, wanted to hear more of it. It struck Adam what an odd situation he was in, and yet how much he enjoyed it. He was sitting in some obscure restaurant diner place with Joseph Kavinsky. He had a comfortable hoodie on, he was slouching on his seat a little and he was full and satisfied, sitting opposite Joseph Kavinsky who was chasing a small piece of chicken with his bread with extreme concentration.

“This is kind of like a date,” Adam said after Kavinsky successfully picked up the chicken. Kavinsky proceeded to choke on the bread and Adam slid his drink closer to him.

“A date?” Kavinsky said hoarsely after his throat cleared.

“I said ‘kind of’, there was no need for all of _that_ ,” Adam’s tone was clearly amused as he gestured at Kavinsky’s current state.

“ _Kind of_ like a _date_ , he says,” Kavinsky muttered to himself before raising his voice. “What do you know about dates, anyway?”

“I’ve dated people,” Adam said, still smiling at Kavinsky. Something about Kavinsky grumbling made him feel _fond_.

“Your immediate circle don’t count as people if you’re not still dating them. I dated Skov for like 5 seconds when we were 16,” Kavinsky told Adam pointedly.

“Dating someone for 5 seconds doesn’t count more than dating someone in your immediate circle of friends,” Adam shot back. “Besides, I dated in college.”

“Did you?” Kavinsky asked, suddenly very interested, leaning forward. “What’s your type, Parrish?”

“In guys or girls? Are we getting dessert?”

“Both and yes, you have to try their kheer.”

“What’s _your_ type?”

“I asked first, you have to answer first, that’s just like basic etiquette, Parrish. And to think you go to top socialite events with those manners.” Kavinsky gasped dramatically, clutching his neck as though clutching pearls. “Have you dated socialites?”

“A couple of times,” Adam shrugged, rolling his eyes at Kavinsky’s dramatics. “It’s too exhausting though. It’s very performative with them.”

“Hm, what was dating Lynch like?” Kavinsky asked and Adam paused. Kavinsky looked up and met Adam’s eyes steadily. It wasn’t that Adam didn’t think he could talk to Kavinsky about Ronan, he just wasn’t sure _how_ to. In the end, he decided to go the honest route.

“It was good. It was alright,” Adam said, thinking back to the past, to a time of his life he honestly doesn’t bother thinking about at all anymore. There were times, closer to their break up, when he wished he was different, a better person, a more fitting one for Ronan but the reality was that he wasn’t. “The opposite of performative, I guess. It was like any high school romance, I suppose.”

“How’d you break up, then?”

“Distance? I moved away for college and met new people. Grew out of Henrietta and the people there. I honestly didn’t want to go back and when I realized even Ronan couldn’t make me want to go back and live in a town like that again, I realized what I had with him probably wasn’t worth much anymore. I’m not a very communicative person when the other person isn’t actively in front of me and making an effort to communicate and Ronan barely even uses his phone.” Adam huffed out a laugh and wondered if Ronan was still using that ancient thing and hoped to God he had upgraded.

“Huh,” Kavinsky said, looking vaguely disappointed.

“Not very dramatic, I’m afraid,”

“Who knew dating Lynch would have been so boring. Someone should have told 17 year old me that, really,” Kavinsky said with a far away look on his face.

“You really liked him, huh?”

“Unfortunately. I don’t know why though, he was a total asshole to me. Like honestly, he once pulled up to my party and punched me for something I didn’t even _do_ and I _still_ was into him,” Kavinsky seemed disbelieving on himself and Adam laughed.

“Did you talk to your therapist about _that_?” Adam teased, staring at Kavinsky’s somewhat grumpy expression.

“Did I _ever_! She hates him too, sweet validation, ah!” Kavinsky said smugly. “She says she doesn’t because she’s all professional shit and preaches about not holding grudges and being bitter about the past but I know she does.”

“ _Do_ you hate him?”

“Nah. I mean, not anymore. I’m more indifferent than anything else but I am also very very petty, Adam. I’m _so_ petty so I wouldn’t not enjoy it if he like, I don’t know, suffered. Just a little bit though. I’m not actively hoping for it.” Kavinsky said. “I’m just bitter about the dream place favouring him, don’t mind me.”

“Speaking of the dream place- why _did_ it hate you and not Ronan?” It was something Adam had always wondered about, why Cabeswater took particular favour to Ronan when Kavinsky and Ronan were essentially the same beings.

“Fucked if I know for sure. Like I said, dream places in different ley lines were different. We found a couple of other entities like Cabeswater but they were pretty tied to their manifesters, so Swan thinks that either Cabeswater was a corrupt leyline manifesting in some way or that Cabeswater was a being that resided in the dream place that manifested and took over the magic of that leyline, I guess?”

“Ronan once told me that he gave Cabeswater a physical form, I think,” Adam said, thinking back to a conversation so long ago, he barely remembered it.

“Well, that figures, doesn’t it? Lynch gives physical manifestation to a magical being, therefore it’s more tolerant of its creator and less tolerant of others, especially people it’s creator doesn’t like,” Kavinsky mused, before shrugging. “I mean, the leyline was already corrupt bc it was awoken by murder and shit and my headspace wasn’t amazing, so the dream place wasn’t going to be pleasant anyway. Henrietta was a clusterfuck.”

Adam hummed thoughtfully, absorbing the information and trying to fit it with the data he already had.

“Cabeswater used to say you’re not a Greywaren,” Adam said and Kavinsky snorted before calling the waiter to take away their plates and ordering their desserts.

“Greywaren,” Kavinsky said once the waiter had slumped off. “Is a bullshit term Niall Lynch made up for a fake object that doesn’t exist. Unless you consider dreamers objects.”

“Cabeswater used to call Ronan the Greywaren, though,” Adam pointed out, trying to think through a time that was both quite a while ago and very confusing. After, Ronan and Adam wouldn’t really talk about the dream place or Cabeswater except occasionally when Ronan would refer to it or dreaming. Adam, since he was no longer connected to Cabeswater, had other things to think about, like _university_.

“Probably ‘cause Lynch Jr. figured that’s what he was bc of his dad and Cabeswater picked up on it. Lynch gives it a physical form, in return Cabeswater is indebted to him or some shit so it buys into the fantasy of a Greywaren. Therefore, it probably labelled anyone not Ronan as a thief rather than a dreamer, yeah?”

“You seem to like your thief persona quite a lot,” Adam commented, nodding his head towards the car outside with the beat up number plate.

“Ah, that- Thanks,” Kavinsky said to the boy putting plates of dessert in front of them. “I was young, I thought it was cool. It wasn’t. It was fucked up and it hurt like fuck to dream but I figured I could at least embrace the title that was being shoved upon me for being me. Made me seem all edgy and cool.”

“Soft grunge,” Adam instinctively said before slapping his hand on his mouth. Kavinsky snorted into his plate and fell on his side laughing while Adam burned red, hating the random girl in university who would say the phrase occasionally, imprinting it into Adam’s mind. The chair beside him helped him from falling completely on the floor as Kavinsky howled under the table. Adam fought his own smile that was threatening to break at the sound of Kavinsky’s hitching laughter. Finally, Kavinsky seemed to catch his breath and shakily sat up again, pressing his lips together firmly but all he said to do was look at Adam before chuckling again, muttering “Soft grunge, oh my god,” under his breath.

“I would say, Parrish, I was more hard grunge than soft, please,” Kavinsky said with a grin. “I did hard drugs and set shit on fire.”

“I recall the fires,” Adam said drily.

“They were great, weren’t they? I should dream up some fireworks again,” Kavinsky said wistfully. Adam rolled his eyes and dug into his dessert, polishing it off as Kavinsky explained the process of creating a dream firework and the difference between gunpowder and dream gunpowder. When the bill came, they split it evenly and made their way back to the car. They were standing at the pavement, not wanting their current conversation to finish when a cyclist rushed past them, almost knocking Kavinsky over.

The next moment was curses thrown from far off and Kavinsky own extremely vulgar mutterings that turn into a yelp as Adam pulled him away from the disaster path and coincidentally flush against Adam himself. Adam suddenly felt lightheaded, heart fluttering as Kavinsky looked up at him, even though Kavinsky’s was uttering some truly horrifying things about dismembered limbs.

“You’re short,” Adam blurts out, stepping away once Kavinsky was very pointedly not falling over.

“Wow, Parrish, smooth. So smooth,” Kavinsky snorted but Adam saw him flush and bit back a smile. Kavinsky made his way to driver’s seat. “Yes, I am short. Pocket-sized, even! Get in the car, you lanky giant. Do you work out?”

“Shut up,” Adam said, ducking into the passenger seat.

“Make me,” Kavinsky said, smirking at him and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Adam turned on Kavinsky’s music instead, making Kavinsky concede and start driving, trying to ignore how much he _wanted_ to make Kavinsky shut up. By the time they reached Adam’s building, though, Adam was close to nodding off with the consistent beat of the music surrounding him, the food he consumed making him groggy and the warmth and soft material of his hoodie trying to trick him into thinking he could fall asleep right there.

They were double parked in front of Adam’s building for a good few minutes, breathing each other's presence in comfortable silence before a honking behind them startled them out of the atmosphere. The car honked again before overtaking them and Kavinsky and Adam both shot them matching daggers.

“Why they gotta be a bitch about it if they were gonna do that anyway?” Kavinsky grumbled. Adam hummed in agreement before making to leave, thinking only of his bed at home.

“Thanks for dinner and stuff,” Adam said sleepily while Kavinsky looked on, amused. “Conversation- all that.”

“Anytime, Adam,” And there it was again, the musical _Ah-dam_ , with a laugh behind the name that was a blessing to hear. “You sure you’re gonna get up okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m capable of getting myself up to my apartment in a food coma, _Joseph_ ,” Adam said drily. Kavinsky snorted at the name and waved him off. He waited with his windows down until Adam was by the door of the building.

“And thanks for the powerpoint presentation!” Adam called out.

“Text me when you’re inside your actual flat!” Kavinsky called back. Adam nodded, though he wasn’t sure if Kavinsky could see him.

Adam texted him as soon as he set foot into his apartment before dumping his shit in his room, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He changed out of his clothes are quickly as his sluggish movements would allow and fell into bed, ready to fall asleep when his phone gave out a notification alert. He saw Kavinsky’s responding message, a “Sleep well,” with 13 different emojis including hearts and stars and smiled to himself, letting it be the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- come talk to me about kavinsky and adamk at my tumblr (@vvhymack) or twitter (also @vvhymack, why am i like this)  
> \- i've decided this story is going to be in 3 parts, all around 8k or so, so the next chapter will be the last  
> \- thank u for sticking around uwu  
> \- my thoughts on the dream place is inspired by this post by di-glossia on tumblr, check it out: http://di-glossia.tumblr.com/post/143870443990/kavinsky-revisited-what-trk-means-for-the-raven


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